


To Know Where You Are

by maryfic



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Medical Experimentation, Medical Procedures, Original Character(s), Surgery, manipulation of a child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1209388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryfic/pseuds/maryfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where was Haley when she and Jack were hiding from Foyet?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [atlathghpcm](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=atlathghpcm), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This story will contain major spoilers for the entire Foyet/Reaper arc - seasons 4 and 5 of CM. 
> 
> Plot idea came from atlathghpcm - I just ran with her baby. 
> 
> For lifeiselsanna, with everlasting gratitude that you allowed me into your ideas. (http://lifeiselsanna.tumblr.com/)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hotch makes plans and Haley is forced to go along.

**_Chapter One_ **

The plan for Haley and Jack to disappear had been in his mind since he’d found out about the first deal, Aaron knew. The reality of watching them walk away and promising through a raw throat to make it up to her, to both of them – _“for the rest of your life”_ – was an entirely different sort of reality, one he wasn’t sure he could cope with. And he had no information now, nothing to go on, nothing for even the skilled Garcia to trace. Haley and Jack were truly gone, until the threat of the Reaper and the repercussions of his own decision not to make a new deal had faded from their lives.

**

The marshals guided Haley into a vehicle that could have been hers, or Jessica’s – a very non-descript four-door sedan. A stranger fastened Jack into the car seat behind the driver, and she slid her hand back to take his, meeting scared, worried eyes in the mirror and trying like hell to be reassuring, when all she felt was the same – with extra, added terror knowing what the Reaper was capable of doing, and had already done. Despite everything that had happened between she and Aaron, he would always be the uncomfortable fourth pirate to her – willing to put himself through hell to be close to her. But sometimes that willingness wasn’t enough.

Firmly shifting her mind to Jack and this new life they were forced to acclimate into, she turned in the seat and began speaking quietly to her son as the car melted into traffic. It was easy to distract him from the badness of the situation – she was a mother, she had long ago forged the tools and skills to deal with Aaron’s work for Jack – and even if they didn’t work on her, that didn’t matter. Why throw the baby out with the bathwater? Those excuses worked very well on a small child and the minor guilt she felt for the deception was made up for knowing she would keep Jack from the unhappiness that plagued her thoughts near constantly for the last year.

The city disappeared behind them and nearly two hours later they pulled up to a large gated complex in the middle of nowhere. It looked military-industrial, and her eyebrows climbed into her hairline as they pulled through after being given access and the car moved in a decisive path through the maze of buildings, finally driving into one that was big enough to house airplanes. Large metal doors closed behind them and floodlights went on, waking Jack from his stress -induced nap. She carried him through a door and into a long corridor with several dozen access-restricted doors to either side; following U.S. Marshal Sorenson, as he’d introduced himself. He diverted into a door and ushered Haley through. To her surprise, it was arranged comfortable, looking like a child’s bedroom. There was a young woman there reading a magazine, and she greeted them with a reassuring smile.

“Hi, I’m Samantha Wheeler. You must be Haley and Jack.” The woman was tall, taller than Haley, but somehow she radiated a warm friendliness that Haley responded to eagerly, eyeing the bed with some trepidation. “You can put him to bed, if you like, while we talk. This is going to be hard enough for him, the poor kid.” No mention of how hard it would be on Haley, like she knew and there was no point in bringing it up. Gratefully, the blonde arranged Jack in the bed, removing shoes and socks on autopilot before tucking him in with a kiss and a soft brush of hair from his eyes. Hers filled with tears and as she turned, a warm mug was pressed into her hands.

“Here, sit, Haley.” Samantha urged her into a soft armchair and Haley sank into it, desperately thankful for the opportunity to just let go and be taken care of for once. The other marshals had been professional, but cold, and Samantha was just what she needed right this second. That and the – hot chocolate?- in her hands made her blink tiredly, but the liquid made its way into her and went a long way towards easing the tight knot in her chest and stomach, the tension she’d been carrying for months unkinking just slightly.

Sighing, she settled into the chair and the silence, her eyes sliding almost closed, but still able to see Jack in that last, thin area of light. As much as she didn’t want to ask, her own training as an agent’s wife pushed her to speak into the comfortable silence.

“So, what now?”

When Samantha didn’t immediately answer, her suspicions flared and she sat up and got rid of the cup. “This isn’t something normal, is it? No matter what Aaron thinks.”

The other woman just looked at her for a long time. She looked at Jack, and then back at Haley, before saying. “No.”

Haley frowned and crossed her arms. She would do what she had to do to keep Jack safe, but she was pretty sure this was going to more than simply going into hiding. After Samantha finished the rather short explanation for what was about to happen, Haley laughed in her face. “You’re crazy, all of you. That’s not even possible, and if it is, how are you going to make Jack agree to it? Or even just not give it all away?”

“There are procedures in place to assure Jack’s cooperation, and I assure you, the younger the child is, the more easily they will accept the ruse as normality. In time, he won’t even know the difference between the two of you, making it easy for you to regain your life…afterwards.”

Surely this was all some terrible science-fiction plot, Haley thought. This couldn’t be what her life had turned into, a bad B movie rather than simply an unhappy marriage between two good people and one tiny boy caught in the middle. But apparently, the added x-factor of the Reaper turned her life into a late night horror film, complete with risky medical procedures and what amounted to brain-washing her son!

“No, I – I can’t agree to this. What does the other woman think about this? She can’t be okay with this – this ridiculousness. What’s wrong with the original plan of going into hiding?”

Sam Wheeler fought very hard to remain calm and friendly when inwardly she was fuming. What in the name of god had possessed her fellow marshals to try the pilot program on the Reaper case? The answer echoed in her head from the hasty meeting earlier that day other where in the compound.

_We have the perfect test pair for the replacement project. It will keep victims safer than hiding them – we all know those success rates. Agent Carlin has volunteered to undergo the first surgery, and Dr. Vickers has assured us that every precaution will be taken with both mother and child. He says that Carlin is healthy and a perfect body match to Haley Hotchner. Plastic surgery can make them look close as identical twins. And it is the only way to gurantee their safety, Agent Wheeler. You wouldn’t want a repeat of your last case, would you?_

And that last hurt more than she cared to admit; that her superiors and fellow marshals would use the Elliots as leverage to force her cooperation on this case. She was a good marshal; she would do her job, even if she had objections. But her mouth opened and she said what she needed to say to convince Haley to go through with this insanity. Close to dawn, she finally agreed, and then the transformation could begin.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Agent Carlin disappears, and Haley comes to terms with a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The surgery isn't explicit, because I just couldn't write that. But it still might be trigger-y. A short set-up chapter.

The environment was sterile, the air cool to the point that goose flesh rose on the nurse’s arms as they laid out prepped surgical tools – knives, saws, needles, incredibly fine reels of silk for stitching. Clean steel bowls, clamps, gauze, cotton padding, sterile water. Coolers of blood within easy reach. 

The table was ready, and Agent Carlin, limp under the carefully regulated dose of medication that would keep her unconscious and loose for the day long procedure, was wheeled in as the first doctor scrubbed himself raw in a clean room. Every inch of him was sterilized, and then he was dressed in surgical scrubs and brought to the operating theater. 

Pictures of Haley Hotchner plastered the walls, giant blow-ups to show every minute detail of her face and body. X-rays had been taken to replicate broken bones. Every detail had to be flawless, they insisted, and because the target was unable or unwilling (it didn’t matter to those in charge) to be laid out beside the new Haley, these would have to do for the first project. Subsequent attempts would not have that glitch. 

Each doctor that came after him would have watched live video of the procedure, so that they could step in with no interruptions. It was very important that this transformation occur in one go. All possible precautions and problems had been planned for – and despite the objections raised by some over the stress Agent Carlin’s body would take, she was still laying on that table. 

If the first surgeon’s hand shook a little under the pressure and the eyes watching from above, it was gone by the time he lifted the small scalpel to lay open Carlin’s face. The control flowed through his fingertips, steadying them as the blade slid through the first layer of dermis and he laughed, easing the tension somewhat. But there was still an underlying brittleness in the room, as though each person knew they were playing with things they ought not to be, playing God and Goddess and Loki in one messed up game of Gods and Monsters. 

Hours passed in the little room. Personnel were changed out every two hours. Most of them had gone much longer on a surgical shift, but those in charge took no chances with such an operation. The whine of the bone saws ceased to bother anyone after lunch, and by six that evening, drugs the public never knew existed were rushing through Carlin’s – excuse me, Haley’s – system, and Mrs. Hotchner was well on her way to recovering from what looked like an experiment in blood painting. 

***

While Agent Carlin was being remade, Haley was experiencing a trauma of her own, one she didn’t get to sleep through. 

She and Samantha had spent the day with Jack, playing and distracting while giving him just enough information that his young, sponge-like mind could absorb while not giving him enough to raise his anxiety. Haley was fighting the near-constant urge to run, to jump, to wail like a banshee as the clock ticked on towards evening and the last time she would see her son until Foyet was dead. 

The redhead had gone over the very soft manipulation techniques they would be using on Jack. If they, if Haley did her job correctly, in the morning he would wake up to the other agent, Carlin – and Jack would never suspect. The other woman was probably better versed on Haley’s life than she was, at this point. Sam had told her that Carlin had gone through intense training to prepare for this role, an undercover so deep it required surgery to pull off accurately. But she hadn’t said much else. 

It was probably better for Haley’s jangling nerves and churning stomach if she didn’t. 

“Jack!” she called, as her son was about twenty feet away playing with a stack of old-fashioned tin soldier men. Probably making them track down a serial killer, she mused, and felt her gut tighten in response. Her little g-man. 

He looked up at her, grinned, and ran over to her, one man clutched in a tight fist. “Hi, mommy. Dis one is daddy. You get to keep him, kay?” 

Dear god. She had to grab him up tight and bury her face in his neck because she couldn’t hold back the tears that time. But she sniffed them back when he wiggled and yelled. 

“Too tight, Mommy, you hug me too tight.” But he was giggling when she pulled away and that’s what mattered. 

He was alive and laughing, and that was what mattered. 

“What do you want for dinner, my love?” 

He thought. “Hamburgers. No. Hot dogs. No, fish sticks.” 

Her smile was real this time. “Choose one, Jack, and I’ll let you have a soda.” 

Jack cheered. “Hot dogs!” 

When she let him go running ahead of her to the cafeteria, Haley realized the tin soldier was pressed so hard into her hand it left marks. 

“You matter too, Aaron. Alive and laughing,” she murmured fiercely, and followed her son.


End file.
